A Bad Dream
by urugazette
Summary: Draco's been having strange dreams that don't make sense. Hermione on the other hand is really flustered about Voldemort. Both are sick and tired of life; they just want to live normally. A bad dream & a cruel reality - will fate bring them together?


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters.**

_Why do I have to fly__  
__Over every town up and down the line?__  
__I'll die in the clouds above,__  
__And you that I defend, I do not love._

_I wake up, it's a bad dream__  
__No one on my side__  
__I was fighting__  
__But I just feel too tired__  
__To be fighting__  
__Guess I'm not the fighting kind_

_Where will I meet my fate?__  
__Baby I'm a man, I was born to hate__  
__And when will I meet my end?__  
__In a better time you could be my friend._

_I wake up, it's a bad dream__  
__No one on my side__  
__I was fighting__  
__But I just feel too tired__  
__To be fighting__  
__Guess I'm not the fighting kind__  
__Wouldn't mind it__  
__If you were by my side__  
__But you're long gone__  
__Yeah you're long gone now_

_(A Bad Dream by Keane)_

Are dreams really dreams, or are they merely reality, taking the form of a fantasy, invading one's brain, analyzing, conquering… When we say we're dreaming, are we just making up excuses for fantasizing, or are we reliving our past, or really are we just simply in a state of unconsciousness?

These questions have been nagging at Draco for some time now. It's been two months since that most riveting dream he had, which left him feeling naked and lost. Since then, he indulges in his usual ritual of revisiting that dream daily. Inside, he was standing in a meadow, sunlight gleaming around him. His 7-year-old self was smiling at something so ambiguous, so mysterious that he couldn't grasp what it was at first. All of a sudden the smile disappeared, only to leave an expression of nothing but pure horror. Draco's young clone turned and ran as fast as he could, frantically away from what he was previously preoccupied with looking at.

When Draco's mother entered the scene far across the other side of the meadow, Draco felt his heart stop. It's been 5 years since his graduation from Hogwarts. In other words, it's been 5 years since the death of my mother. After 5 years, Draco hasn't got over it, and he doubted he ever will. Yet right at this moment he's looking at himself run away from her, as if he just saw a monster. It didn't make sense to him. Did this really happen? Not in his memory, for he can't seem to recall it. It seemed like his first time seeing it, even though he's the main character of it all. He was frightened of his mother, the one who he loves and misses dearly, the only person to have ever showered him with any affection at all in his life. It was then that he awoke, covered in sweat, when he realised that he'd cried while he was dreaming.

The debate on dreams then became a topic he pondered about everyday, but he couldn't seem to come up with an answer as to what exactly that dream meant. It seemed so real, too real to have been created from scratch, for he knew, a perfect man he was, Draco was never really good at imagining, it just wasn't his thing. Yet since it was a dream, it should be fake, shouldn't it? Most of all, he couldn't even remember it ever happening, in all his 22 years of existence.

After 2 months, he decided now's the time to do a conclusion. He sighed. All the headaches that dream brought him; he's surprised he's still alive and breathing. Admitting defeat, Draco decided that whatever dreams are, he's not in the least bit interested to know, nor did he care (oh really, who's he trying to kid).

In any case, he didn't want to go through that experience again. If dreams were just fantasy, then so be it, he didn't want to be a part of it. Amidst all this, Draco fell asleep.

He saw it again, the very same meadow; the scene of his 7-year-old self replaying in his mind, and his mother, stepping out into the glorious sunlight, glistening like an angel sent from heaven, only to face the image of her own son running from her, mortified.

Life is truly fucked up.

-xoxo-

"So, what have we here?" the python all but hissed. The sight of a mudblood in his presence was enough to make his insides churn with a burning passion of hate and loathing.

"The mudblood saw the fight. What should we do to him?" a blonde male replied huskily.

"The usual, Draco, the usual. Make sure you do it right, this time it's all about keeping secrets. You wouldn't want this to leak to Harry Potter and his dear company of hooligans now, would you?" He snarled at the mention of Harry Potter's name, gathering all his might not to rip the heart out of the person standing next to him: Lucius Malfoy.

He gave a last hiss before sliding out of the room, into the darkness beyond the gates of his dungeons. Draco sighed at the retreating figure of the Dark Lord, before turning back to the frightened mudblood, his eyes hard and dark, set on the mudblood's face. At this point, the mudblood was shivering; the menacing look on Draco's face was enough to inject a fear so overwhelming in him that he lost control over his body and started to shake.

"Please…" he begged with knees on the ground. "I didn't see anything, I swear… Please don't kill me, please…" he all but pleaded, bending his head down in a bow to Draco.

Draco inched closer to the mudblood, his wand outstretched in his hands. He was ready for the kill; it wasn't his first, but he'd screwed up before. Because of his damned conscience, the one he'd been trying to fight back all this time as the Dark Lord's right hand man; the one that sent him in a frenzy every time he tried to do what was right, to do what he was told to do; the one that always went against his wills and his desires; he had disobeyed the Lord's commands all because of that damned conscience. Right now, Draco knew that if he made another mistake that was it for him. He knew the Dark Lord wouldn't forgive him.

Draco didn't want to kill the mudblood, he really didn't. He knew the mudblood just happened to stand at the scene where his little fight took place.

"Avada Kedavra." The words slipped before he'd even prepared to say them.

Draco watched as the mudblood fell onto the ground with a thump, his body limp and his eyes still wide open in shock and fear, his mouth shaped into a scream which didn't make it out in time. Draco turned to his father, who had been watching him.

"You've done well, son." Lucius said. His face was expressionless, and he didn't look like he meant what he said. Draco felt a sting in his heart but quickly pushed it down to be locked in his heart. What were they called again? Oh right, emotions. He was taught to be rid of those things by his father; they were meaningless, he'd said.

"Father…" he started, only to be cut off by a sigh from the hooded man standing by his side. Draco stared straight into his father's eyes, trying to catch a hint of any sign that his father had meant his words, only to find nothing. Lucius's eyes were void of any emotion, they were simply lifeless features on his face, meant to be covered by the shadow of his hood.

Draco turned away, willing himself to stop looking before he showed any signs of weakness in front of his father. He's developed a love-hate relationship with his life. He loves it for all the power it brought along, loves it because just a single wave of his wand could silence many, and loves it because his father was proud of him, or at least he thought so. At the same time, he hates it. He hates it because he always had to go against his conscience, it annoyed him. He hates it because he knew what he was doing was wrong, but he can't do anything about it. He hates it because it made people hate him.

Draco maintained a straight face as he took out the portkey – his wand. He glanced sideways at his father before taking out his hawthorn wand, vanishing.

-xoxo-

"Harry! Stop it, that's really mean of you." Hermione said, annoyed. Harry had been going on and on about Ron's new girlfriend, Lavender, and how she'd embarrassed herself by somehow managing to knock herself in the face while eating - in front of Ron's family and of course, Harry. Hermione wasn't there because she was on vacation with her parents in Hawaii. She came back only to be bombarded by this same story over and over again and now she felt that she should mention something about it. Lavender is sweet, isn't she? She didn't deserve all this mockery; Harry is just being an ass, as per normal.

"She didn't mean to do it. C'mon, be nice, I bet she was really nervous, I mean, she's seeing Ron's parents for heaven's sake." Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to her beef stew. She took one look at it and turned back to Harry, who was by this time tearing up from all the laughing while clutching his stomach.

Hermione sighed. She stood up and dumped her stew in the kitchen sink before settling on the couch. She picked up the Daily Prophet and started reading.

_**He Who Must Not Be Named Rises; Chaos Breaks Out**_

Hermione stared at the headlines. Great. Wonderful. Superb. Voldemort's back. Has anyone ever mentioned that life is cruel. She walked towards the panting Harry and dumped the newspaper in front of him. Crossing her arms, she said, "Have you seen this?" When he continued laughing, she probed again, "Guess not, I mean look at you going all cahoots about Lavender. _Harry._"

Harry stared down at the paper in front of him, the large captioned words glaring into his face. He Who Must Not Be Named is back? How is this possible? Didn't Harry defeat him already? He already killed Voldemort. Killed Voldemort. And now he's back. Was it just him or these 2 sentences don't seem to link all that well?

"I killed him. Hermione, you saw it!" Harry all but shouted.

With a pause, he continued cautiously, "He's back?"

The atmosphere suddenly turned serious, and they both frowned.

"Well, if this is trustworthy stuff, then he's back, Harry." Hermione said, her brows furrowed. The Daily Prophet wouldn't dare to fabricate such news, not something as huge and important as this. The greatest fear of the wizarding world is back to trample on the tranquility of the people. Images flashed through both their minds, the terror he will inject into the people, the lives he will take, the unthinkable plans he's making. All the horrifying pictures brought back frightening memories, and they both shuddered at the thought.

"So what do we do now?" Harry asked, his eyes unreadable.

Hermione bit her lip. Her eyes flashed and she said, "It's time we visit our old friend, Harry."

**A/N**: Okay. My first fanfic. An edited version though. Reviews are loved, criticism is welcome, and really, I'm grateful for you to just take the time and read my amateur piece of work (: Oh well, hope you like it. If you don't then, I'm sorry. ): I'll try to make it better for the subsequent chapters, which are probably going to come pretty late considering I'm in the midst of my exams now. Sorry guys! I promise a super big bonus will come your way when I do come back (: Review! Till then, bye.


End file.
